


Intertwined

by Zero_Zero



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Can be read as gen or slash, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hair Braiding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zero_Zero/pseuds/Zero_Zero
Summary: Snippets of Anakin and Obi-Wan braiding each other's hair throughout their relationship, with feels.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 159





	Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first published fic ever and my first one in the Star Wars fandom, so please be kind. That being said, any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome. Potentially OOC, as I'm not sure I have the characterization down. Inspired by the behind the scenes of ROTS where Hayden's hair was super long before George Lucas decided to cut it.

It had started when Anakin was nine years old, when Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi had taken him from his mother’s side so he could be a Jedi. His mother had let him go, sadness in her eyes, but also with a hope that her little boy could finally be free. Shivering on that cold, unfeeling starship bound for Coruscant, Anakin had tried not to cry in front of the queen, her royal staff, and the Jedi that had rescued him. He found himself tinkering with the spare parts around the ship to distract himself, even helping Obi-Wan with the hyperdrive before they left. Watto always said Anakin was good with his hands.

Two rotation cycles into the flight, he ate with Obi-Wan in the mess hall as the older man told him what Coruscant was like.

“Coruscant is considered the center of our galaxy, Anakin. It is covered with buildings, built up from the ground and past the sky, where-"

“Like Mos Espa?” Anakin interrupted.

Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully, “Not quite, Ani. Think of Coruscant like thousands of Mos Espas built on top of each other.”

“Is it cold there? I don’t want to go anywhere cold. This ship has been cold enough.” Anakin asserted, although it looked more like pouting.

“Actually, Coruscant has a planet wide weather control system, it only gets cold part of the standard galactic year. They call it the ‘winter season,’” Obi-Wan explained patiently. “Sometimes, during the part of the year where the weather is closer to the climate of Tatooine, water even falls from the sky.”

Anakin interjected, “Mom says that when water falls from the sky, it’s called rain. She says she’s never seen it, though. Where does all that water go?”

“The weather system recycles it and then-" Before Obi-Wan could finish, the doors to the mess swished open and one of the queen’s handmaidens came in. Padmé, if Anakin remembered right. He had seen her, along with the other handmaidens, twisting the queen’s hair into some elaborate style that reminded him of the braid slung over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan spoke first, “Ah, Padmé! I’m afraid the only thing left that the mess has to offer is ration packs of instant bread and stew.”

“That’s alright, Master Jedi. The queen and her servants require very little at the moment.” Padmé replied softly.

Anakin stared at her in wonder, her skin and clothes were so clean, much cleaner than the sand beaten appearances of other girls that he had known. He wondered what the queen looked like up close, if her handmaidens looked like this. He wanted to find out. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “Ma’am, can I help you take the meals to the queen? I promise I wouldn’t get in the way or anything, it’s just that I wan-"

Padmé’s answering laugh sounded like the wind chimes his mom had hung up outside of their hovel, “If the Master Jedi has no objections to me stealing you from him, I’d be glad to have the help.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes glittered as he put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, the movement already familiar between the two Force-users. “Go on, Ani. When you’re done come find me and I’ll show you a little Jedi trick to replacing droid wires.”

“Sounds good, Mister Obi-Wan!” Anakin scrambled off of the bench and picked up the pile of rations next to Padmé, happily trotting after her to see the queen.

The pair walked into the inner chambers of the ship where the queen sat in her ornate robes surrounded by her staff. Anakin helped pass out the food, buzzing with nervous energy that threatened to burst out of him. Of course, it eventually did.

“How do you sit with that thing on your head all day, Ma’am?” Anakin gestured to the gargantuan feathered crown atop the queen’s head, “Doesn’t it get heavy?”

One of the guards stepped forward to usher the boy away, but the queen smiled and lifted her hand and the soldier stepped back. Queen Amidala spoke, “Not at all, dear Anakin. It’s quite light. Padmé, help me take my hair down, so the boy can hold the crown.”

Padmé stepped forward from beside Anakin to undo the winding locks of hair and innumerable amounts of pins that held the crown in place. Once undone, she passed the headpiece to Anakin, who weighed it thoughtfully in his small hands.

“Wow, this would be a great material to reduce tension on the lower half of a droid while keeping stability intact...” Mused Anakin, flicking the dome of the crown. Remembering the dexterity of the handmaiden, his mind quickly shifted to another train of thought, “Hey, Miss Padmé, are you secretly a mechanic? Your hands seem really good at detail work when you do that-that twisty thing to the queen’s hair.”

“I’m afraid my mechanical ability is severely limited, Ani. I’ve only ever used it for hair dos.” The handmaiden blushed.

“Maybe I could do both! Mister Qui-Gon says that I’m the Chosen One. I bet if I can put together a droid, I can do hair!”

“I think you could, Ani,” Padmé started leading him out of the room. “It’s called a braid, it’s what Master Obi-Wan has in his hair. I can show you how to do it.”

“Thanks, Padmé! Mister Obi-Wan will definitely let us practice on him,” Anakin gleefully proclaimed has he darted around the corridor. Padmé tittered at the thought of a Master Jedi having his hair braided by a boy who could barely contain his exuberance, already imagining the long suffering look on Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan, of course, acquiesced to the boy, undoing his Padawan braid with a practiced motion so Anakin could redo it. Surprising Padmé, Obi-Wan had nothing but affection on his face as she helped guide Anakin through the movements.

That was how Qui-Gon found them when he returned to the crew quarters from the bridge: Anakin and Padmé giggling like conspirators as the boy wound and unwound his Padawan’s braid with increasing ease, and Obi-Wan with a smile on his face that could only mean attachment.

—————————

After Anakin became Obi-Wan’s Padawan, there were more struggles than either of them were prepared for. Anakin dealt with nightmares and an abundance of vitality unused to the seemingly stifling force of the Temple walls. Obi-Wan felt out of his depth, still reeling from the death of Qui-Gon, the hatred that he had drawn from when he killed the Sith, and his knowledge that he was too young to be a Master, but too skilled to remain an apprentice.

The new Jedi Knight resolved to guide Anakin as best he could, as he had promised both his former master and the boy. It started with small, halting steps. There was already an intrinsic trust between the two, a result of the bond that had been building since they became acquainted on Tatooine; however, Anakin had lived nine years outside of the influence of the Jedi, and he had yet to learn a new kind of trust: the one between a teacher and a student.

Obi-Wan led Anakin to their shared quarters after meeting with the Jedi Council, quarters which had been previously occupied by himself and Qui-Gon. He sat with Anakin on the couch, preparing himself for what he knew would be a difficult conversation.

“Anakin, you are my Padawan now, which means that I am your teacher and you are my student,” he began. “I want you to know that first and foremost, no one owns you anymore, I am merely more experienced than you.”

Anakin had a puzzled expression on his face, “Yeah, Mister Obi-Wan, the Jedi in that big room told me all of this already. You were even there!”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I know, Anakin. I simply wanted to remind you. This-what I mean to say is-in this dynamic that we now find ourselves in, it is customary for the Padawan to refer to their teacher as ‘Master.’” Anakin stiffened beside him, but otherwise remained silent. Obi-Wan feared that the boy felt he had just been pawned off from one owner to another.

I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, young one. This does not mean I am above you in status, only that I have gained more knowledge in the ways of the Force.” Still, Anakin did not speak. His shoulders seemed to relax slightly, but his body was still rigid. “I know that my words seem empty at this moment, but I promise you, I will do everything in my power to prove my sincerity,” Obi-Wan finished, pulling Anakin into a one armed hug.

The tension slowly melted out of Anakin’s small frame until he finally returned the hug, throwing his weight at Obi-Wan. When the young one spoke at last, it was almost too quiet to hear. “Mist-Master, could you redo my braid? I know it may seem stupid because I just got it but I-" Anakin blubbered.

Obi-Wan stopped him by pulling out of the embrace, “Of course, Padawan, all you ever need to do is ask.” The Force moved between them, that golden bond strengthening with every strand of hair Obi-Wan weaved into Anakin’s braid.

—————————

It had continued even as Anakin grew into a fine, capable young man. Anakin’s strength in the Force, mechanical skills, and saber technique never failed to amaze Obi-Wan and fill him with a fierce, if un-Jedi like, pride. Anakin’s piloting skills were another matter, more suicide diving than any sort of measurable skill.

The only thing that seemed to elude the young man was meditation and the inner peace and patience that came with it. If Obi-Wan wasn’t around, the closest Anakin could get to meditation was performing maintenance on ships in the Temple hangar or tinkering with droid parts. The Force flowed through Anakin so strongly that it was hard for him to just sit and be still. It always seemed to push at his skin, aching for release in the form of motion.

When Anakin’s master was able to force him into meditation (usually with the excuse that it was part of both their duties as Jedi), Anakin demanded that they meditate together and that Obi-Wan guide him. It was as if their shared bond opened even more during meditation, and Anakin’s restless energy could be siphoned off somehow. There were some instances where his Padawan couldn’t find balance, but Obi-Wan had an alternative method to calm the constant noise in his friend’s head since the first time it happened...

_Anakin was restless. Even as his master sent waves of calm and reassurance through their bond, he couldn’t settle. He tried the basic meditative breathing pattern, but when after a few minutes his mind was still racing, he gave up. Now he just had to get his master to give up too._

_Hearing a loud sigh, Obi-Wan cracked one eye open to see Anakin pouting at him. Sighing to himself internally, Obi-Wan opened both eyes and leveled his Padawan with a stare. “What.”_

_Anakin groaned, “Come on, Master! I can’t do this anymore. Can’t we go spar or something? I think I honestly might be dying.” “_

_You have to learn inner balance, Anakin. I would be remiss if I did not teach you how to still your thoughts.” Obi-Wan countered calmly. “_

_Kriff, Master, you have no idea what it’s like in my head. Everything I release into the Force just comes right back into me. It’s like I can’t escape it. Can’t we try something else, just this once?”_

_Though he knew it wouldn’t be “just this once,” Obi-Wan pitied his apprentice and devised a non-traditional plan of meditation. Anakin’s Force signature was like a supernova, and Obi-Wan could only imagine what it was like to live with all of that energy moving through him. “Come, Padawan. Sit on the floor by the couch,” Obi-Wan dictated. Eager for a change of pace, Anakin shot off of his meditation mat to his new position. “We are still going to meditate, but this time I want you to focus on my hands and their motion in your hair.”_

_Slowly, Obi-Wan removed the beads from Anakin’s braid, and unwound the strands. Anakin leaned back into the touch of his master, closing his eyes. Obi-Wan continued, weaving and unwinding the braid, as Anakin drifted off further-not quite sleeping, but truly still for the first time in a while. Anakin felt like he was floating. The Force seemed to buoy him into a vast space of nothing, where he was finally in tune and at peace with his massive life force. Distantly, he was aware of his master’s hands threading through his hair, but it only served to make the moment more peaceful and relaxing. It was like the first time Obi-Wan had ever redone is braid, a moment of pure trust. Obi-Wan was slipping the beads back onto the braid when Anakin came out of his trance._

_Obi-Wan finished his handiwork and smiled down at Anakin, “I think that was the first time you ever truly let go, Anakin. I am proud of you.”_

_Suddenly, their bond was filled with an overwhelming appreciation and affection from Anakin; it would have knocked Obi-Wan over if he had not been sitting already. Like all those years before, Anakin launched himself at his master, and they embraced in the glow of the setting sun as the Force sang with contentment around them. The tidal wave of emotion from Anakin eventually subsided, replaced by a tinge of embarrassment, and another feeling flowing from both ends of the bond: complete and utter trust. Anakin looked into the sea storm eyes of his teacher, brother, and friend, unable to articulate how thankful he was for Obi-Wan’s presence in his life. He mustered every fiber of emotion he felt for the older man, and pushed it into one word._

_“Master.”_

_And somehow, by Force or by intuition. Obi-Wan knew exactly what Anakin meant._

—————————

If Obi-Wan had it his way, which he almost never did, the war would have waited until he and Anakin were too old and senile to leave the Jedi Temple to fight. It wasn’t the Jedi way to feel resentment towards any situation, but Obi-Wan would have rather forgone the anxiety and worry he felt when he saw his former Padawan surrounded by blaster bolts, fending the enemy off alongside his troopers. He knew in his head that Anakin was one of the greatest Jedi to ever live and that he could take care of himself, but his heart ached for the young man that was thrust into war. Obi-Wan knew that attachment was also not the Jedi way, but the war had turned them from peacekeepers to soldiers, so he supposed that ignoring other facets of the Code wasn’t too bad as long as he did his job.

Anakin, on the other hand, felt like he was finally able to channel all of his energy into something that he believed in. He threw himself into the war so much that the young man often forgot to take care of other aspects of his personal care. Anakin’s hair had grown out as stops at a reputable barber seemed more and more out of reach. Between campaigns, he barely had time to report to the council before leaving for his next assignment, let alone worry about getting a haircut. He only permitted a nonprofessional trim if it began to annoy him enough, and then he would only seek out Obi-Wan for the job, and even _then_ only ask if Obi-Wan already had his beard trimmer out. They were best friends, but Anakin still hated being a burden.

Unfortunately, he and his former master had been separated for several months now, and Anakin’s hair was now able to be pulled into a low ponytail. It embarrassed Anakin, the way some of the clones in the other regiments would snigger and call him the “Pretty General,” but he refused to let anyone at the unruly mane unless they were either a professional or Obi-Wan. Rex did a good job of keeping the troopers of the 501st in line, reminding them that it was wartime and hair was the least of anyone’s worries, but even Rex couldn’t stop Ahsoka from pestering Anakin about his locks.

“Come on, master. At least let me do something to it. It looks like a mop!” Ahsoka teased him as they walked to the command deck.

“Yeah, Snips, like what? Do you even know how to do hair?” Anakin bantered back.

“Uh, I mean, I never really had to know-“ Ahsoka tugged at one of her montrals to prove her point. “But it can’t be that hard, right? You could teach me how to braid!”

“Maybe another time, Snips, we have a war to win right now.” The doors of the lift opened and the General and Commander walked to where Rex was waiting at the holoprojecter.

“General,” Rex started, “we’ve received orders to meet with General Kenobi and the 212th at their current position to provide reinforcements as our current system is now stable under Republic control. Kenobi and his men are located in the Outer Rim, fighting Separatist blockades of vital hyperspace lanes here and here.” Rex gestured to two red dots on the holomap.

“Sounds fun, Rex. I know you and the men were getting a little bored out here just doing patrol duty,” the general smiled, clapping Rex on the shoulder. “Ahsoka, report to the Admiral with our orders and set a course for Obi-Wan. We’ll depart immediately.” Ahsoka wandered off to the front of the bridge to find Admiral Yularen.

“Anything else, Rex?”

“No, General. But you must be ready to get back to General Kenobi, sir.” Rex chuckled. “Maybe he could do something about the mop on your head.”

“Ha ha, Rex. I think you’ve been spending too much time with Snips,” Anakin’s voice carried no real venom, just an affection and camaraderie for the people he served with. “Go get some rest, I have a feeling we won’t be getting much when we finally meet with Obi-Wan.”

As Rex retreated to the crew quarters, Anakin mused to himself. Rex had guessed right, he was more than ready to reunite with Obi-Wan, but it wasn’t just because of the mess his hair was. Anakin had felt... jittery, off balance, from not seeing his master in so long. They had always been together, and if not for Obi-Wan’s comforting presence in their bond at the back of his mind, Anakin didn’t know how he would have handled the separation. He and Obi-Wan were like two sides of the same credit, Obi-Wan centered Anakin’s soul and Anakin provided a liveliness to his master’s life (in the form of grey hairs, Obi-Wan would say). Attachment wasn’t the Jedi way, but Anakin knew he had hardly ever been the perfect Jedi. Oh well, there was nothing Anakin could do now but wait. Maybe he would take Ahsoka up on the offer to do his hair...

—————————

“Ow, Snips! You don’t have to yank so kriffing hard!” Anakin grumbled as Ahsoka tried to work her way through the tangled mess her master’s hair had become.

“Sorry, Skyguy, not used to sensitive scalps, Togrutas don’t have hair follicles and stuff.” She tried unraveling the knot again, only to elicit more curses from her master.

“Maybe I should leave this to Master Obi-Wan.”

“Leave what to me, exactly?” Obi-Wan’s lilting accent came from the doorway.

“Master!” Both Anakin and Ahsoka exclaimed, each trying to explain the situation.

“She’s trying to rip my hair out-”

“Human heads are so sensitive-”

“You know how I feel about haircuts-”

“Master keeps whining-”

Obi-Wan came closer to the bunk and Ahsoka gladly gave up her role as hairdresser, moving aside to allow room for the new addition to the small space. “My, Anakin, your hair surely has grown since we were last side by side. I take it you haven’t found a suitable barber?” Obi-Wan chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, well, Coruscant isn’t exactly close and I don’t trust just anyone with my hair,” Anakin side eyed Ahsoka, who just shrugged and smiled with mock-innocence.

“No matter, though I am afraid I left my trimmer on my own ship, we do have time for a quick braid before reporting to the bridge. Watch, Ahsoka, I’m sure Anakin will appreciate you having proper training in this matter if I happen to be absent again.” Obi-Wan began to gingerly finger through his Padawan’s hair, untangling the knots and smoothing out the strands. Slowly, he began to take small pieces of hair and weave them together, adding hair to each piece as he went on. When the braid was finished, Ahsoka provided Obi-Wan with the hair tie she was going to use before Anakin’s hair had bested her.

“There, you look almost presentable,” Obi-Wan teased, hand still gripping Anakin’s braid. “Ahsoka, head up to the bridge, I must speak with your master alone.”

The doors to the cabin opened and closed.

“Oh, dear one, though I feel somewhat obliged to remind you to take care of your appearance, I am never loath to see more of your curls,” Obi-Wan leaned in, resting his forehead against the other man’s.

“I didn’t want anyone else to touch it, master. It’s our thing, ya know? It wouldn't be as calming if anyone else tried to trim it. I know it feels silly to care so much about hair, that Jedi aren't supposed to have vanity, but it’s the one thing I have to remind me of you and we’ve been separated- I just- I haven’t felt at peace. And now that you’re here, I feel like I’m centered again.”

“Oh, Anakin,” breathed Obi-Wan, “I know. I know. I have been unbalanced in the Force as well. You... complete me, in ways I did not know I needed to be completed.”

They breathed in tandem for a few moments, the Force flowing around and through them, before the younger man spoke. With the same intensity as all those years ago, Anakin said one word.

“Master.”

With one hand gripping Anakin’s neck, the other thumbing over his sharp cheekbones, and every ounce of his being, Obi-Wan returned the sentiment.

“Padawan.”

Together, they rose and made their way to the command center, knowing that where the Team was back together, the campaign would be short and victorious. For the Team did not just mean brothers in arms, or lovers, it meant a deep partnership-a bond between souls that were always destined to meet each other. Whether they chose to turn their bond into something romantic or platonic, the dyad was intertwined in the Force, stronger than any braid either one had ever woven.


End file.
